


Kendô

by tonikaku



Series: Waking Up [1]
Category: No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonikaku/pseuds/tonikaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Practice at the High School Kendô club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kendô

"Men!"

The shinai hits Shion hard. Its impact resonates inside his helmet and makes his ears ring. He shakes his head to clear his vision, but the dizziness only gets worse.

What am I doing?

His arm is grabbed forcefully. Even through the thick vest, it hurts enough to make him wince.

"Shion, look up. Look at me."

Shion does as told. Slightly hampered by his mask, he sees a pair of eyes staring at him so close he cannot help but draw away.

Grey eyes. He has seen them before. Grey like the mouse he saw in the kitchen this morning, trying to steal a bite of his apple.

Nezumi.

"Nezumi!" In his inner turmoil, his voice is louder than expected. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees several masks turn in his direction. Flustered, he apologizes for the interruption and asks for a short break. The captain frowns as if to say, get used to it already, you wimp. However, he allows Shion his break.

Shion walks to the far wall of the dôjô, self-conscious and on oddly unsure legs. He almost stumbles over his own feet, but again the strong grip Nezumi has on his arm prevents him from falling. Shion doesn't dare look up for fear of seeing Nezumi angry. When Nezumi is angry, his eyes are sharp like knives, ready to slice open his throat to silence him forever. Even then, they are beautiful.

Grey eyes, like the mice in the kitchen. That's why they call him Nezumi. Shion tries to remember his real name, but his head hurts too much. When did his head start hurting?

"Shion."

Startled, Shion looks up. He must have sat down while he had not noticed, for Nezumi is leaning down to him, offering him a cup of water. Reflexively, Shion removes his mask and gloves and takes the cup. His fingers briefly touch Nezumi's. Unexpectedly, they are cold. Shouldn't they be warm from practice?

Nezumi sits down next to him. A bit too close inside the smouldering hot dôjô, but Nezumi seems to want to prevent Shion from toppling over.

"This hasn't happened before, right?" He asks.

Shion shakes his head. "I completely lost my orientation for a moment. I couldn't even remember where I was and who you were. It was..." Frightening.

Nezumi turns his head. "Do you remember now?"

Shion turns his head, too. He smiles as best as he can. "Of course."

"Tell me, then. Where are we and who am I?"

Shion is taken aback by Nezumi's harsh tone and the urgency in his voice, but he knows better than to question.

"This is West High School, sixth dôjô, Kendô club. You're Nezumi, class 1-B."

Nezumi doesn't smile back. Instead, he wordlessly gets up and takes his place among the other first year students in the line-up for the captain's instructions. Hurriedly, Shion tries to stand, too, but his legs won't move. With a frown, he quietly settles against the wall.

For the next half an hour, Shion follows Nezumi's movements with his eyes. Nezumi is beautiful, he thinks. His attacks are graceful, the shinai seemingly weightless in his hands. He must have been a warrior in several of his earlier lives.

Nezumi doesn't look in his direction until the next break.

When Shion takes his re-filled cup back from Nezumi, he notices that Nezumi's fingers are warm. He lets his own linger a bit too long; surely Nezumi must have noticed, but there is no indication that he has. Instead, he motions for Shion to join the line-up again. This time, Shion's legs do not buckle under his weight and with every step he takes, the memory of what just happened feels more like a dream.

The last hour of practice remains uneventful. Shion gets hit a lot and lands some hits himself, gets complimented on his fast learning and admonished to work on his defence. He laughs and promises to pay better attention when his partner lands another hit on his helmet.

"Don't lower your guard!"

Shion is sure he can hear Nezumi snicker somewhere behind him. He tightens his shoulders and attacks as swiftly as he can manage, but his shinai is easily brushed away.

"Not quite", says his partner, "you're still way too transparent. I don't even have to concentrate to see you getting ready for an attack. Try to loosen your shoulders a bit and don't look like you're about to murder me for starters."

Shion nods. After several months, he is still not quite used to hours in heavy armour, and the August heat isn't helping at all, but...

I told Nezumi I could do it. There's no way I'm giving up now.

Shion stays after hours to practice the drills he missed with Nezumi who seems to be completely unfazed by just how hot it is. If anything, he hits harder and faster than during practice. Shion does his best to keep up, but the muscles in his arms are screaming in agony and the sweat running down his face makes his eyes burn. A last time he gathers his strength, ignoring the pain in his arms, and strikes down.

"Men!"

 _Clutter_

Shion suddenly finds himself empty-handed and with Nezumi's shinai under his chin. Through his helmet grid, he can see Nezumi's eyes, intense and focused and not at all tired.

If this were a real sword, I'd be dead, he thinks. Strangely enough, the thought doesn't fill him with fear. Perhaps I wouldn't mind being killed by Nezumi, or perhaps I know he wouldn't kill me... His thoughts are calm.

"Enough, Nezumi. I have no idea what the hell you're trying to prove, but you're not to use _tsuki_ on a beginner, am I understood?"

The captain's angry voice resonates through the mostly empty hall. Nezumi lowers his shinai and bows shortly in his direction, acknowledging his misstep. When he faces Shion again, he grins.

"Let's leave it at that for today. Thanks for practicing with me."

They bow towards each other, Shion echoing the salute. He goes to retrieve his shinai, but Nezumi gets there before him and hands it over. They walk towards the changing room side by side, Nezumi's feet only producing a slight whisper on the floor whereas Shion thinks he might just have become an elephant for all the stomping he is doing. At least this time he doesn't stumble.

Nezumi's laughter tears him out of his dazed state. "Come on, stop staring off into space and get changed so we can go home. Or do you want me to help you?" He is already out of his armour and putting his hakama on a hanger. Hastily, Shion tries to get his helmet off, but his fingers keep slipping on the straps that are soaked in sweat.

"You're kind of pathetic sometimes, you know that?"

Suddenly, Nezumi's voice is just behind his head and dry fingers bat away his own wet ones. "Let me do this."

"No, it's..."

"As an apology. Captain was right, I shouldn't have used _tsuki_ on you. That was unfair."

Shion lets his hands fall to his sides. He can almost hear his muscles groaning. "I didn't mind, actually", he murmurs.

"Doesn't change the fact that it's technically forbidden."

"You don't sound too concerned about that, though."

"I might've lost myself a bit out there."

Shion whirls around. "You? Lost yourself? I've never seen you more focused. What the hell are you talking about?"

Nezumi remained silent for a moment before grinning, sliding the helmet off Shion's head and handing it to him. "There, now hurry; I'm famished."

Shion manages to change into his uniform despite his whole body protesting every movement, no matter how small. The whole time, he feels Nezumi's eyes on him, not offering to help again. Getting changed after practice is, after all, part of the whole deal, and Shion is not going to ask.

He does stumble again on their way home. To his surprise, Nezumi puts an arm around his waist and pulls him against himself. Uncomfortably hot though it is, August nights being not much cooler than the days, Shion doesn't protest. It's for the best, he thinks, I might just fall and hit my head or break a wrist or something if he lets go.

"You're working hard", Nezumi says, his voice almost inaudible among the noisy cicadas. "That wasn't too bad today."

Shion is so exhausted he wants nothing more than to curl up on his bed and sleep for a hundred years (or ten hours, until he has to get up again to be on time for morning practice), but upon hearing Nezumi's words, he can't help but look at his friend and smile so wide it hurts his face.

"Thanks to you, I guess", he says and is only slightly surprised when Nezumi faces away and snorts to hide his own smile. "I won't ever be as good as you are, but I'll do my best anyway. Unless you want me to stop. Being the only beginner must drag the club down a lot", he adds, suddenly unsure.

Nezumi snorts again, this time undoubtedly amused. "You're free to leave if you want, and free to stay for as long as you want as long as you try to keep up." Nezumi's arm tightens a bit.

He wants me to stay, Shion thinks, and happiness spreads throughout his body.

 

When Shion wakes up the next morning, it takes him a while to adjust to his surroundings and to get his body, heavy with the labour of the day before, out of bed and downstairs where his mother has already prepared breakfast.


End file.
